Running
by TBM1
Summary: Deep in the forest of Glenumbra, a Breton healer stumbles across an injured Orcish warrior. Taking pity on the woman, the Breton uses her magic to save the warrior. What follows is an odd partnership and an even odder attraction.
1. Branches

_**Author's Note: So this is a little bit different for me. This story was birthed by the combined minds of a good friend and mine. This is a romance/adventure/possibly some humor revolving around our characters from ESO. This story will have switching POVs, which is another element I am experimenting with. Each POV switch will be shown with the initial of the character whose POV we are reading from. We spent a lot of time on their backstories and character traits; but I'm droning on. Into the meeting of our heroines!**_

 _M_

Leaves crunched under light leather boots as the sun cast dreary rays through the thick foliage of the Glenumbra forest. The Breton looked about with cold blue eyes, scowling at her surroundings; she was lost, again. Something howled in the distance and she gripped her woven wooden staff closely. Wandering was something she was familiar to, but getting lost was a constant. She didn't like to stay in one place for too long, but her fear kept her from wandering too far from her past.

A howl sounded over her left shoulder, where the forest got a little bit thicker. She shifted her staff from her left hand to her right, preparing herself for a battle. The small woman set her jaw, and stalked forward towards the howling.

Rushing forward over fallen branches and gnarled roots the mage came upon a large figure sprawled out in the dirt. Exactly three wolves surrounded the body, one of them was pawing at the body, sharp teeth heading for the tender flesh. Not knowing if this stranger was dead or alive, she thrust forward through the brush, taking the wolves by surprise with her staff. She made quick work of the starving things, draining their lives easily with her magicka.

The Breton blew a long piece of her dark brown hair out of her face, it seemed to almost always separate from her braid that circulated her head, looking almost similar to a crown. She approached the figure cautiously, stooping down and laying her staff close within reach. Reaching out hesitantly with her left hand she felt for the figure's face, and as she did so she summoned a small ball of fire in her right hand as to see better in the encroaching darkness.

Sharp cheekbones met tentative fingers as she turned the figure's face towards herself. The Breton recoiled slightly in disgust; it was an Orc. The Orc was female, her skin was a light pale grey and strange piercings protruded from her lower lip. In the middle of her lower lip was an almost fang shaped piece of jewelry that hung down nearly to her chin; on the sides of her lip closer to the corners of her mouth where dual studs. The Breton scowled, wondering why someone would disfigure their mouth in such a way. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her jaw strong. Her features were quite attractive...for an Orc, the Breton tacked on with a roll of her eyes. The woman's hair was shaved on the sides, and a single strip of hair black as ebony was left in the middle of her head. It was about five inches long and lay partially in her face, seemingly stuck to her skin with blood.

The Breton retrieved her staff and stood, looking down at the woman with a strange mixture of pity and disgust. The Orc seemed to have been robbed or otherwise assaulted, as she had been completely stripped of her belongings. No weapons lay nearby, and she had been shamefully stripped down to her under garments. Intricate tribal tattoos traced the entire expanse of her lightly muscled pale skin, occasional scars nicking her skin. The Orc was obviously a warrior, and the Breton's inquisitive nature made her curious as to why this woman was lying in the middle of the Glenumbra forest bleeding out.

The Orc looked weakly up at the Breton, her jaw moving as if she was struggling to speak but the words would not come to her. A wet cough broke her chest, trailing off into hacking and wheezing, a thin stream of blood trickled down her chin and out of the corner of her mouth. She reached out, trying to look about and coughing as her fingertips grazed the Breton's boot.

Scowling, the Breton fought the urge to kick her hand away. "Filthy Orc...what happened to you?"

The Orc struggled to speak, only wheezing sounds coming from her lungs; the look on her face was clear, help.

The Breton crossed her arms, warring with herself. She couldn't figure out why she wanted to help this pathetic creature. Tamriel was survival of the fittest after all, and clearly this woman had failed in that aspect. But at the same time she prided herself on being a healer, and curiosity about this strange woman was definitely a factor.

Hesitantly she brought her hands together as she summoned a healing spell with her magicka, "You better be grateful for this, filthy Orc…"

…

 _R_

Warmth, the first thing that struck Rodana was that she was surrounded by warmth. The second thing that occurred to her was that her head felt as if it had been smashed by a warhammer. Hesitantly cracking open her eyes, she looked about with a groan.

A thick plain quilt had been thrown almost carelessly over her body, and a fire roared between her and a rather disgusted looking Breton woman. Her brown hair was tied in a braid that wrapped about her head like a crown, her pale blue eyes were cold as they bore into Rodana's; she wore simple green and light brown mage robes with golden accents. Her features were youthful and girlish, she was quite beautiful. A large woven wooden staff was propped against the log she sat on, and in her hands she held a small dagger that she was sharpening.

Rodana sat up a little, making her head spin and her stomach ache. She groaned, putting her head in her hands before quickly pulling up the blanket to cover herself when she realized that her armor was gone and only her simple dark cloth underthings remained. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes snapped up to glare daggers into the Breton's. "Who in Oblivion are you?"

The Breton calmly set her sharpening stone aside, holding the dagger firmly in her right hand. She came off as cool and confident, but Rodana swore she could see the woman's hands shaking slightly. "Look savage, I saved you from nearly being eaten alive by a pack of wolves. I think you ought to show a little less hostility and a little more gratitude."

Rodana acquiesced with a scowl, attempting to relax slightly, although not out of fear. Surely if this woman meant her harm, she had already missed her most opportune moment. Even unarmed, she was positive she could take this tiny Breton.

The Breton smirked, something akin to superiority showing mockingly in those even white teeth. She spoke quietly in a gentle, smooth, accented voice; it matched her appearance in every way. "May I ask why you were lying in the forest, battered, bloodsoaked and nearly nude?"

Rodana cast her eyes down into the fire, clenching her jaw tight; shame filled her body. "I'd rather not say. I don't know you from a hole in the ground, why should I tell you?"

The Breton stabbed the dagger into the log she was sitting on, reclining slightly on her hands. Her expression was smug, as if she had the upper hand in this situation. "I saved your life after all. Can't say why, but anywho, I believe you owe me for my act of selflessness. I am Madetiene; now that we are a bit more acquainted, I implore you to share this story with me."

The Orc nodded slowly, questioning the motives of Madetiene, but finding herself intrigued by the strange Breton; something was almost hypnotizing about the woman. Her blue eyes were icy and condescending, but Rodana caught herself getting lost in them. She mulled the name over slowly, it sounded like the name of a Queen.

She licked at her lower lip, a nervous habit. "I suppose you've earned it. I assume you know of Orcish strongholds?"

Madetiene nodded, eyeing the Orc with curiosity.

Rodana sighed and stared into the fire with intensity. "I'm Rodana, I fled one of those strongholds. My father was a very powerful chieftain, and I had to keep up to very high standards due to that. I had to be physically superior than other women in the stronghold in every way. I had to hunt more, had to kill more, had to earn more tattoos and more trophies. All of this was to assure that I would have the most superior children in order to carry on my father's legacy. Marrying the daughter of a chieftain is one of the highest honors in a stronghold. It's the closest that we come to royalty."

The Orc paused for a moment, her tongue fiddling with one of her lip piercings, she looked troubled. "Due to that, the chieftain is often the one who chooses that his daughter will marry when she comes of age."

Madetiene scowled. "Forced marriages? That's quite barbaric, even for Orcs."

Rodana gave her a look. "Anyway, the daughter is forced to marry a man and have children; It's considered a great honor," she scoffed, disgust evident in her tone as she spoke, "Let's say that this chieftain's daughter has no interest in men or little brats, so she attempts to run away the night before the ceremony. Then she is hunted down after a few weeks as this is considered dishonorable; she is no longer worthy of the stronghold or of the title of even being an Orc. She is stripped of their armor and weapons, beaten within an inch of her life, and left to die."

A silence fell between the two, only the sounds of the crackling fire and crickets chirping filling the night.

The Breton broke the silence as she took in the Orc's somber expression. "That is most unfortunate. Sometimes a fresh start is much needed; perhaps you are better off without them," she paused for a second, looking about with those icy blue eyes before gathering her staff and her dagger, "Speaking of, I should go."

Tucking the dagger into her boot and propping her staff against her shoulder, the smaller woman started off into the dark forest, leaving Rodana sitting by a roaring fire with shock on her face.

The Orc stood quickly in shock, becoming lightheaded from standing up so quickly. She rushed into the forest after the other woman, dead leaves crunching under her bare feet. "Now wait, what about your blanket?" _What about me?_ Not knowing what else to do, she rushed to keep up with the woman, catching up with her surprisingly quickly. She wasn't quite sure why she pursued the Breton; the feeling of loss that took her as soon as she was alone was unsettling. Rodana had no one and nothing; no friends, no home, she didn't even have adequate clothing.

The Breton looked over her shoulder, giving the Orc a look a distasteful look, but she continued walking. "You can have it. Clearly you need it more than I do," Madetiene gave a smug smirk.

Rodana felt some sort of strange panic come over herself. This strange mage was the only somewhat friendly person she knew in the outside world, and she had already saved the Orc's life despite not knowing her. The need to not let this woman walk away was consuming.

"Yes, but we can help each other. You said it yourself, I owe you; let me pay you back."

"How could you possibly-" The Breton was cut off by the Orc suddenly pushing her roughly to the side of her path, the sharp wood of a tree cutting into her back.

...

 _M_

Panic pulsed through Madetiene's blood as she cried out in pain and fear; she should have known better than to trust this savage. The Orc's body was pressed flush against her own, emitting heat and smelling of the forest and blood, she had pinned Madetiene's hands to the tree. Her staff fell somewhere in the leaves by her feet.

"I already saved you, foolish Breton." Rodana smirked widely, pointing down to the sharp rusted edges of the bear trap that Madetiene had nearly stepped in.

The Breton huffed, putting on her best 'I knew that' face and trying to ignore the pounding of her heart and the embarrassment blooming in her cheeks from the terrified yawp she had emitted a moment ago. "Of course, now get off of me!" Her voice came out strained as she shoved the laughing Orc away. She brushed at her robes and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear, blushing furiously and glaring into the Orc's soul.

Rodana's grin was like a Cheshire cat.

Madetiene's glare should have killed her by this point. "Do not say a word."

The Orc's toothy grin became wider. "You're scared of me."

The Breton huffed and threw her arms in the air. "Yes! Okay! Yes! You are scary, because you are a damn savage! Do you feel accomplished?" Exasperation was heavy in her tone, and it only served to make Rodana grin even wider.

"There you go, there's why I should travel with you. I'm a savage and I can terrify anyone who dares threaten you."

Madetiene rolled her eyes and looked about, suddenly noting that the blanket had fallen to the ground in the confusion. Rodana stood before her in her thin underthings; smirking widely as Madetiene blushed harder as she took in the sight of her femininely muscled arms crossed over a full chest, her curvaceous hip cocked out slightly as she rested her weight on one foot. The tattoos that traced her body covered all of her flesh, save for her hands, feet, neck, and head. They were taboo things, some strange part of Madetiene wanted to trace them with her fingertips. "You are a strange savage; cover yourself and let us be gone from this atrocious forest." She grabbed her staff angrily from the dirt.

The Breton started walking in a random direction before Rodana's voice interrupted her. "Town is back the other way."

Madetiene turned around with a growl, shouldering past the smirking Orc. "Shut up, savage."


	2. Roots

**_Author's Note: My update times are ridiculous I know and I must apologize to everyone. All of my stories are still in progress despite slow going; nonetheless, here is the new chapter of Running!_**

 _R_

The moon hung low and silver in the sky, a perfect crescent against the pitch black of the night; stars dotted the ebony sky, bright beacons of light in the darkness. Rodana gently licked her lower lip, her mouth was dry and her feet ached from walking barefoot over thorns and rocks. The Breton that she had followed out of the forest seemed to have a general idea of where they were going despite her hesitation; she wouldn't admit that her sense of direction was garbage, but the Orc could tell.

She would stop and backtrack, blaming it on the setting sun confusing her "inner compass." Madetiene made feeble attempts at explaining her navigating, but as an experienced navigator and tracker, Rodana knew it was a farce.

After what felt like hours, the Breton gave out a victorious shout when the duo stumbled across a worn dirt path.

Rodana looked about, underwhelmed, "What in Oblivion are you yelling about? We found the road after hours. Surely if you had let me lead we would have been here over an hour ago."

The mage turned around to glare at the Orc, her crystal blue eyes wide with fury. "As if you would have any idea where we are, savage. If I am not mistaken, you were the one who was nearly devoured alive by wolves. Not to mention you only have a blanket for clothing." The Breton finished with a smarmy grin, clearly satisfied with her sharp response.

Rodana licked at her lower lip as she smirked, preparing a sharp response;. "Fair enough, mage; are you done insulting me or are you ready to lead us in the wrong direction for an hour again?"

Madetiene glared daggers into the Orc. "I regret this decision already." She rolled her eyes and turned sharply on her heel before walking down the dirt path away from the other woman.

Rodana began chuckling loudly, "Breton, I do believe you are walking the wrong way again."

Madetiene spun around, a loose hair brushing across her sharp cheekbone, her brilliantly blue eyes blazing like fire. "Excuse me, savage?"

Rodana jerked her thumb at the smoke in the distant sky. "I don't know how it works for you humans, but for Orcs, smoke usually means a stronghold or a camp." A smug grin was plastered over her lips, her teeth looking dangerously sharp in the setting sun.

The Breton scowled at the Orc before she looked to the sky, seeing that there was indeed smoke rising in the distance, stark and black against the bright moon; a sure sign of a civilization. She looked away, not meeting the Orc's bright emerald eyes, "Okay...I will give you one thing, savage, you are observant."

…

 _R_

Madetiene had put up a hood and covered her face with a strange veil; it was an odd thing, looking like spikes that came down from the crown of the veil and covered some of her face. It looked sharp and dangerous. She kept her head down and walked quickly as they entered the village.

Rodana followed close behind, feeling nervous as she saw several pale humans that were clustered around a water pump stopping in their tracks and giving her odd looks; she pulled the blanket closer around her body. "I take it you don't have another weird veil thing for me, do you? I'm getting some pretty dirty looks."

Madetiene smirked under the veil, keeping her eyes ahead. "Do I sense a case of the nerves in the all powerful and fearless huntress of a savage?"

Rodana growled lowly, her lips pulling into a frown. "I haven't encountered many humans in my life. The few that I have...well those encounters never ended well. Humans can be such ignorant, foolish creatures; yet you claim we are the savages. Don't blame me for being nervous."

The Breton gave a small shrug, "Well enough I suppose. Just do not do anything that would attract unwanted attention. If someone were to challenge you, do not pay them any heed."

The shorter woman had really stepped up her pace, walking quickly towards a small shop, the Orc spotted a small and rather unimpressive blacksmith's forge near the side of the building. "What are we doing here?"

"Do you wish to continue to walk around in a blanket and without a sword to protect your sorry backside?" The Breton looked over her shoulder to give a smirk; the veil cast a shadow over her face, and all Rodana could see was small even white teeth.

Rodana barely had time to react before the other woman was pounding on the door to the small building. Despite how tiny her fist was, she struck the worn wooden door with enough force to make it rattle on its hinges. The Orc felt her cheeks color and she looked around nervously, silently thanking that there were no humans around to witness this brash and surprisingly loud display.

There was a thump from inside the house, followed by a man shouting "Gods damn it, stop that pounding!" There was a pause as footsteps thundered closer before the door was wrenched open so roughly that Rodana was surprised it didn't come off its ancient looking hinges. A tired looking Nord stood in the doorway, his long blonde hair fell down to his shoulders, a small section of it was in a braid that hung against one of his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes suddenly went wide, his tanned cheeks flushing a bright red as he looked at the Breton standing in his doorway.

"Oh! Gods, Madetiene! I am so sorry I didn't realize that it was you," He paused for a moment, fumbling with his words while the Breton looked up at him from underneath her veil like the cat that ate the canary.

"You look like you have seen a ghost Erick, calm yourself," Madetiene's smirk never disappeared, as she looked at the awkward man. Rodana felt an odd tension between the two.

The Orc turned slightly, looking to her right towards what appeared to be the town square; several small shops surrounded a small well that was encircled by flowers that were varying shades of reds, blues, and yellows. Her attention was immediately caught by the ancient looking ruins of a charred and mostly collapsed building; the stone and what remained of the wood was blackened from being licked and consumed by flame. The sight of the ruins made a chill shoot down the Orc's spine; why would these strange humans leave these ruins here? It seemed almost symbolic.

The Nord man seemed to finally notice Rodana when he gave the Orc a disgusted look, his grunt of disapproval bringing the woman's attention back to him. She gave him a challenging look until he finally moved his eyes back to Madetiene. "May I ask why this savage is following you around?"

Madetiene gave the man a smirk. "Oh that's actually why we are here Erick, my friend here is in need of some armor and a weapon. Would you like to take her measurements or shall I?"

Erick grimaced and gave Rodana a once over. "Uh sure Madetiene, but I am doing this for you, not that thing."

The Breton gave the Nord a winning smile, her hand caressing his bicep gently and making his whole body give a noticeable tremble. Rodana arched her eyebrow at the two. Erick retreated into his home for a moment, returning with a simple cloth measurement tool. He gave the tool to Madetiene and leaned in the doorway, waiting for her to get the Orc's measurements.

The Orc watched the Breton skeptically, feeling herself suddenly tense upon seeing the smaller woman's catlike grin. "What?"

Madetiene gave a slight chuckle. "How am I supposed to get your measurements if you stand there stiff as a board in that blanket?"

Rodana gave the woman a pointed look. "What? Just take them over the blanket. You don't need to make this any more awkward than it already is." She felt her cheeks color slightly.

Madetiene scowled and held up the measuring tape impatiently. "We have not got all night. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can move on."

The Orc sighed, clenching her jaw slightly in frustration. Averting her eyes to the dirt, she slowly removed the blanket, feeling the brisk night air meet her bare flesh.

…

 _M_

The Breton knew that she was being sadistic, but just couldn't help herself; seeing this intimidating Orc blush was far too amusing. She moved to stand behind the larger woman, her eyes tracing over her impressive amount of tattoos on their own accord.

She took the measuring tape across the taller woman's shoulders, taking note of the number before quickly looping the tape around her breasts. She felt the Orc's breath slightly catch, making the Breton give a small smirk of amusement. "Does this make you uncomfortable?"

Rodana seemed to almost hold her breath until Madetiene moved the tape down and around her waist. "Would it not make you uncomfortable? Being in your undergarments in front of two people you barely know?" She nervously licked at her lower lip, her eyes wandering about as if she couldn't decide where to look.

The Breton let her fingers skim the other woman's shapely hips; some random part of her mind noting that the tattooed skin was surprisingly soft. She paused her movements, giving a small chuckle. "Some people make good coin that way."

Rodana gave a nervous laugh, not daring to look back at the brunette. The smaller woman was amused by the Orc's awkward behavior, but decided to finish up the measurements quickly. Erick looked even more awkward than usual standing in the doorway of his small shack, and the Breton found herself drained from the long day.

She rattled off the numbers quickly to the Nord, barely giving the man time to write them down before she was tossing him the measuring tape and turning away from him. "Thanks, Erick, and please hurry; I need to get away from this cursed place."

…

 _R_

The local inn was a rather bleak and unimpressive thing. A tired looking Breton tended a small bar area with a rather pitiful selection of food and drink, and the center of the room was dominated by a fire pit. Tables and chairs were scattered about the room, and a small set of rickety stairs led up to the actual rooms of the inn.

Madetiene still hadn't taken off her odd looking veil; she looked about the empty inn and turned her nose up. "Just as classy as I recall. What is the plan, savage? Have you any coin?"

Rodana felt her cheeks flush slightly. "I don't even have any clothes, so I'm gonna have to go with no."

The Breton grit her jaw. "I do not have much coin either at the moment, but that is a matter to be resolved in the morning. For now, how are sleeping arrangements going to work?"

"What do you mean?" Rodana arched her scarred eyebrow at the smaller woman.

"This place is pitiful, if you could not already tell; they only have small rooms with twin beds and the floors are cobblestone. I am sure that will not affect a savage like you?" That smug grin was back, visible under her veil.

Rodana wanted to throw her hands in the air in exasperation. "You despise me so much you would have me sleep on cobblestone?"

Her laugh was musical yet somehow still held malice. "You are huge, surely you will take up most of the bed and I will have to push you onto the floor anyhow."

The Orc sighed. "How do you know what these rooms are like anyway? You seem very familiar with this town despite not living here." The Breton had been acting strange since they entered the village. Her cocky disposition had changed ever so slightly, she seemed unsettled and nervous; she was hiding her emotions behind that veil. Despite being somewhat awkward with people, Rodana was an expert at reading them.

Small brown eyebrows knit together as if she had just been accused of something heinous; Madetiene put her hands on her shapely hips defensively. "I have only passed through a few times. I am a wanderer, but even I want to have a small taste of civilization from time to time."

The smaller woman got defensive and there was a dramatic change in her body language as the subject brought up, Rodana had her now; she was lying. The Orc spoke with a smirk, "Then why have you kept that veil on since we set foot in this place? Not to mention the way you keep looking around; you may as well write "Suspicious" on your forehead."

Madetiene clenched her jaw. "Let's just move on, savage. I do not want to linger here for any longer than possible." The Breton's sudden change of mood was alarming, but it confirmed Rodana's suspicions; Madetiene had some sort of past here.

…

 _R_

The room that the two would share at the inn was a rather unimpressive thing, sparsely furnished with a simple twin size bed and a table with a single chair sitting crookedly; a red threadbare rug covered most of the floor and a few books sat on a low bookshelf. The two had ordered a simple meal of grilled salmon and potatoes. It was poorly cooked and slightly burnt, but the Orc was so hungry she didn't even care. She hadn't eaten in nearly three days at this point. Madetiene had to be equally famished, but she ate slowly and carefully.

Rodana finished eating first, and she put her now empty plate on the small table that she sat at; Madetiene had taken the bed, choosing to put her plate on her crossed legs. Feeling awkward, Rodana made her way to the small shelf covered in books, choosing one at random.

She opened to the title page, arching an eyebrow at the text; _The Lusty Argonian Maid._ "I'm going to have to give this one a definite nope."

That caught the Breton's interest, "What are you doing?" Madetiene's accented voice was genuinely curious.

Rodana turned her head slightly to give the Breton a grin. "Would you be interested in hearing the tale of _The Lusty Argonian Maid_?" The Orc gave a chuckle and pushed the book towards the Breton.

Madetiene grimaced as if Rodana had pushed a poisonous snake towards her and gently slapped the book away. "Get that filth away from me! I hate Argonians and I have read it before; such a boring bit of smut."

"Gods no, you have read this before?" Rodana laughed and tossed the book in the general direction of the shelf, somehow making it land right on top.

"Not my proudest moment, but oh well." Madetiene stood and placed her plate on top of Rodana's, before turning to stare at the Orc for a moment. "Well?"

She pulled her blanket tighter around herself without thinking. "Well what?"

Madetiene rolled her eyes and motioned toward the bed. "Are you not exhausted?"

The Orc was confused for a moment. "I thought you would prefer me to sleep on the floor?"

"I changed my mind, you can join me. But if I have to shove you on the floor for any reason, I will not hesitate," Madetiene's smirk was playful.

Rodana rolled her eyes and climbed into the bed, pulling her blanket around herself. Madetiene blew out the candle that sat on the table and climbed in after the Orc without a second thought. The two were silent for a few moments before Rodana began to grow uncomfortable.

The Breton was pressed nearly flush against her body, but the Orc did not dare touch her; she kept her arms tucked near her head and they were starting to go numb. She could feel herself blushing profusely, and she couldn't help but note the Breton's scent. The smaller woman smelled sweet like fresh flowers from being in the forest all day. Rodana couldn't deny that Madetiene was beautiful despite her often sour mood, and the Orc had found herself admiring the woman many times throughout their travels together.

Exhaustion soon started to take its toll on the Orc, slowing her thoughts of her new companion; a few moments later, she had succumbed to the pull of sleep.


	3. Roots Part 2

**_Author's Note: Oh hey anyone that's still reading. I'm slow as fuck, I know. But here's the new one boys and gals ;)_**

 _R_

 _A heavy, bloody leather sack bounced against Rodana's shoulder as she made her way through the forest. The Exile had put up quite the fight, but he was no match for the next in line for the Chieftain's crown. His head continued to bleed inside the bag, blood pooling at the bottom and leaving a trail of crimson droplets behind the Orc._

 _She was getting closer to Iri's treehouse; surely her Elven lover would not approve of having a head inside her home, so Rodana looked for a place to stash her trophy. A hole in a nearby tree looked promising, but something was wrong; something was burning._

 _Emerald eyes looked quickly to the sky, seeing gray smoke in the direction of Iri's home. A panicked cry escaped the Orc's full lips, and she started sprinting without a second thought._

 _Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe, and her stomach threatened to spill its contents at any moment. Heavy booted feet flew over the ground, the severed head still clenched tight in her fist for some odd reason. She sounded like a stampede coming through the forest, shoving branches and plants out of her way._

 _There were familiar voices ahead, as well as the sound of a massive fire. Rodana burst through the brush, taking in the sight of her father, Gnash, her husband to be, Adul, and her mortal enemy, Shel. They stood with their backs to Rodana, taking in the sight of a roaring fire, Iri's treehouse completely consumed by flame. The flames were so large that Rodana could barely hear what the trio was saying. It took her a moment to realize they were huddled around Iri._

 _Without even contemplating her next move, she hurled the bag at her father, striking him in the back of the skull and making him give a grunt of pain and shock. Her greatsword was in her hands seconds later, ready to cut them all down. "You bastards, I'll wear your skulls around my belt as trophies."_

 _Adul had pulled his sword and shield, and Shel drew an arrow on her bow, challenging her, but her father stood calmly, wiping the blood from the severed head off of his own head. "Adul and Shel, stand down now. Rodana, we both know you couldn't hide this forever; you have brought dishonor upon this tribe."_

 _Rodana could barely breathe, her eyes flicking past her targets and down to the crumbled body on the ground. Was she even still alive? "Step aside before I move you all myself."_

 _Gnash gave a single nod. "Get away from the girl, let's allow her to say goodbye." He moved away from the tree, but Shel and Adul stood in shock for a moment._

" _You're allowing this? Gnash, show some spine and show your child what happens when you disobey tribal law!" Shel was furious, pointing her bow threateningly at Rodana; Adul stood firmly beside Shel._

 _The Chieftain placed his hand on the handle of his axe, fixing an icy glare at the duo. "You will step aside, or consider yourselves Exile."_

 _Shel and Adul grudgingly acquiesced, lowering their weapons and joining Gnash off to the side._

 _Rodana dropped her greatsword and rushed over to the burning tree as quickly as her legs would carry her. She collapsed in front of her lover, taking in the sight of her broken body. Her left leg was twisted off to the side at an unnatural angle, her arms covered in burns and blisters; her once shoulder length brown hair that was always adorned with small braids and colorful feathers was now scorched up past her chin and blackened with ash and soot. Crystal blue eyes were now reddened and bloodshot, tears leaking from them and leaving trails in the ash on her face. "Ro...I tried to get away, I jumped." Those red eyes looked down at her broken leg._

 _The Orc's hands hovered over the Wood Elf's body; she was afraid to touch her. She felt herself start to hyperventilate, all she could smell was scorched flesh. "Iri, I should have been here; we should have run away like you wanted to. By Malacath, this is all my fault." A wracking sob broke her chest, tears falling onto Iri's burnt fur clothing._

 _Iri's small hands took Rodana's face gently, looking into her eyes. "It is no one's fault, my love. We were meant for disaster, you warned me and still I craved you; even now, I regret nothing. I will always love you, Rodana Rona."_

 _The Orc gave a weak nod, more tears falling from her eyes. "I love you, Iri." She took the Elf's face gently, kissing her passionately. Rodana pulled away gently, looking into Iri's eyes as a blissful smile crossed the Elf's full lips._

 _Iri's lips parted to say something, but her eyes focused on something behind her lover before an arrow struck right between those crystal orbs that had always captivated the Orc. Her hands fell from Rodana's cheeks and her whole body went limp, her head nodding down in finality._

 _Rodana couldn't breathe, the only sound she could make was a hollow cry of pure anguish. Her hands gripped Iri's shoulders tight as if it would make the dead woman react in some way._

" _Breaking such serious law entails a serious punishment, Rodana. Let this be a lesson if you wish to remain in the tribe." Her father's voice sounded far away, detached, and almost ethereal._

" _I say we exile her for a month to let this sink in," Shel's quip was barbed and hostile._

 _Rodana's limbs felt cold and numb, her senses failing her. She stood slowly on shaking legs, drawing her dagger from her belt slowly and turning towards the murderers. "You killed her; You burned her and shot her when she did nothing wrong to any of you. She wasn't trespassing on our lands or harming anyone; you tortured an innocent woman."_

 _Shel stepped forward angrily, getting in the other Orc's face, "You could not reproduce with this woman! Adul is to be your betrothed and you spit in the face of an honorable man and the sake of your tribe every time you came out here to see her! You are not worthy to take your father's place, and you sure as shit are not worthy to birth the next Chieftain. You get exactly what you deserve for choosing such a lowly creature to love."_

" _You do not dare speak ill of her!" Rodana's voice was a dangerous growl as she seized the smaller woman by the front of her leather armor; without thinking she hilted her dagger in Shel's belly and gave it a sharp twist._

 _The smaller Orc fell to the ground, her eyes wide and her mouth opening and closing rapidly in shock. Rodana smirked and looked at Shel's blood on her fingers. "I hope you drown in your blood like the pig you are."_

 _Gnash and Adul rushed to the injured woman in an instant, the Chieftain looking up at his child with pure hatred. "You are not worthy to be in this tribe any longer; you are not even worthy to be an Orc. My child, my disappointment; you are Exile from this moment on. You have two weeks before war parties will start to track you down."_

 _The now-exile felt nothing. "You've already taken the only person that ever truly loved me; there is nothing else you can take from me. You can have your tribe and your honor; I'd rather be an Exile than call myself the daughter of a madman."_

…

 _R_

Her hands reached out for Madetiene without a second thought, but the small bed was empty; the pillow was soaked with tears, and the blankets lay in a twist at her feet. Small sobs escaped her throat and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. That recurring nightmare, that memory that the Orc could not repress no matter how much she forced herself to ignore anything that threatened to make it surface. This was the third time she had the nightmare this week.

Struggling to pull herself back into reality, Rodana forced her mind to focus on the situation at hand. Madetiene was gone, and the sun shone brightly in the window. The room was completely still and silent, save for the occasional person walking past in the hall.

The Orc wiped her tears on the blanket that Madetiene had given her, swallowing thickly and forcing herself to breathe albeit shakily. She stood on legs that felt like jelly, setting the blanket aside since she was alone. Madetiene had not left a note or any indication of where she had gone.

The thought of the Breton leaving her here made her want to vomit, but she told herself that her new compatriot would not abandon her in such a way; they had an agreement after all. "Am I really sure of this or am I trying to convince myself not to start panicking?" She muttered lowly to herself, completely unaware of the door opening silently behind her.

"What exactly are we panicking about, savage?" Madetiene's voice was as smug as ever, but Rodana's heart skipped a beat at the sound of it; a feeling of relief washing over her body instantly.

The Orc spun around to face the smaller woman, blushing slightly from her lack of clothing and the knowledge that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. The back of her throat was still tight from her breakdown, and but she felt like she was hiding it pretty well. "Nothing. Where did you go?" Rodana crossed her arms, attempting to change the subject.

A bundle of black cloth was tossed at her chest before Madetiene lowered her hood. "I decided to pick up a few things from the town square, but you did not answer my question. I am not a woman to be ignored, savage." The comment was sharp and sudden, but somehow didn't come off as rude, just a simple fact.

Rodana held the bundle in her grasp, but didn't unfurl it yet. "Look, I am not a good liar by any means, but I lied to you before. Back there when you were asking me about myself, I lied about running away from my tribe." Guilt was etched deep into her face, her eyebrows knit together in shame.

It was almost unnoticeable, but the mage's stance changed defensively; her right foot came forward slightly, and her right hand loosely gripped her staff that hung on her back. The Orc took note of this, but didn't move. "Look, I was exiled, but I didn't deserve it. They forced my hand."

The Breton still looked cautious, as if Rodana was some sort of dangerous snake that could strike at any moment. "What did you do, savage?"

The former tribal gave a deep sigh and placed the bundle of cloth on the small table. "I didn't kill anyone, I mean I don't think I did anyway."

Madetiene rolled those captivating eyes and gave a sarcastic quip, "That is reassuring." Why was she so breathtaking even when she was being so harsh?

"In my tribe, there were many laws that we had to follow or we could face exile. There were general rules for the tribe, normal things like not killing without reason and not stealing from others; but for the Chieftain and his family there are very specific rules. We have to be role models, be more fearsome than any other Orc, earn more tattoos, get special piercings, and most importantly, the daughter or son of the Chieftain must marry and reproduce to continue the lineage."

The Breton actually seemed intrigued by the culture of Orcs, much to Rodana's pleasant surprise. "So that is why you are covered in tattoos, you are expected to earn them all?"

The Orc gave a genuine smile, excited that she was having a civil conversation with the other woman. "Yes, each tattoo stands for a different task, ritual, or mission that I completed for the tribe. We get tattoos for things like our first successful hunt, defending our lands from outsiders, helping those in need; but its not all kind deeds. These tattoos are bloody things. I earned many of them for besting challengers within the tribe, great hunts, or leading assaults on those who decided to stay on our land, even massacring enemy tribes and eliminating caravans that didn't ask permission to travel through our lands."

Madetiene arched an eyebrow in intrigue, coming close to the Orc and starting to examine some of the intricate designs on her femininely muscled upper arms. Rodana felt herself blush slightly and she opted to continue her explanation. "It's not all so murderous though, I earned this one from walking across a bed of hot coals to prove my loyalty to my father." She offered her left forearm to the Breton, letting her trace the intricate tribal swirls that were etched into her skin.

Her fingers were gentle, touching lightly as if the skin was still tender; it made Rodana give a small grin of amusement. "You Orcs are indeed a strange people. Such extreme tasks for a mark to be etched permanently into your skin," those crystal eyes flicked up to the Orc's lips, "The piercings? Those are unique as well?"

Rodana nodded, pointing to the left stud. "This one is given by your mother when she feels you have earned her respect and approval. I got mine when I was nine after my first successful deer hunt, but my mom wasn't around to give it to me so my dad gave it in her honor," she paused, pointing now to the right stud. "This one given by your father for the same reasons; I got it when I was fourteen when I first killed an outsider who threatened us."

"Were you attacked?" Madetiene's curiosity seemed to grow with each facet of the Orc culture.

"Yes. I was hunting with my father and another senior member of the tribe when Nords came from the woods. They had killed a small patrol of our people and were wearing their armor as trophies. We were outnumbered greatly, at least eight of the fools, but my father was furious and his anger is a legendary thing. He had killed four of them before I even dropped the two men that rushed me."

A strange emotion flashed behind the Breton's eyes, but it was gone before Rodana could ask what it was. "So this last long one in the middle of your lip, what does it represent?"

"This is a piercing that only the child of the Chieftain can earn; it means that the Chieftain deems you an adult and a worthy leader, it means you are ready to take their place and lead the tribe. It's not really official until he or she willingly gives up their role or you challenge them to a duel. If you succeed and you are the new Chieftain, then all of these piercings are removed, and you get a single stud in the middle of your upper lip to symbolize your status. You are above everyone else, hence this being one of the only two piercings that can be in the upper lip. The other piercing in the upper lip goes to the Chieftain's husband or wife, and sits off to the side kind of like these studs on the lower lip; it represents being by the Chieftain's side for eternity."

Madetiene's tone was genuine. "I suppose you savages are much more complex than I gave you credit for. Thank you for this, it was educational; but you never told me why you were exiled, or why you were crying."

The Orc felt heat flush into her cheeks; she had been positive that she had hidden her tears well. "Remember how I said the Chieftain's child had to marry and reproduce? Well I couldn't exactly do that. It's accepted for normal people in the tribe to be attracted to those of the same gender, but for the child of the Chieftain it is unacceptable. We must reproduce at any cost, even if it means giving up our happiness or being forced into an arranged marriage if we do not pick a suitable spouse. I was expected to breed a child that would be honorable and powerful enough to take over for me when I gave up the crown, but I put off marriage because my true love was a woman who lived outside of our tribe."

Madetiene shook her head in disgust. "There is that barbarism that I was talking about; being forced into giving up your own happiness for a title. Who was this woman?"

Rodana's throat tightened again and she cleared her throat to force the feeling away. "A Wood Elf named Iri. I met her four years ago and I loved her instantly; she was the type of person that just radiated happiness and positivity. She had built this treehouse a few miles from our lands, so we should have never crossed paths to begin with, but she had wandered onto our lands when I was on patrol. We were supposed to kill outsiders on sight, but she was so beautiful I just stopped dead in my tracks," The Orc paused, a smile coming over her lips and her eyes drifting to a far away place. "She was picking berries, and she had wandered further than she normally did. I warned her that she would be killed if anyone else found her, and I escorted her home."

The Orc licked at her lower lip again, her habit. "And I just started visiting her and it turned into something more. We became lovers, she was the light of my life. I would make any excuse to leave so that I could go see her. My father grew suspicious, and one day I came back from hunting an exile… He had burned her treehouse to the ground," Rodana paused, her eyes watering slightly, "She had jumped out so she wouldn't die up there, but she was all burnt and broken. Then they killed her right in front of me." She stopped talking, her eyes no longer in that far away happy place; she stared blankly straight ahead at the door as she relived the moment.

Madetiene sat silently, waiting for the larger woman to continue; she seemed conflicted.

"Put an arrow between those blue eyes that I loved so much. So I snapped; I stabbed the girl that killed Iri. I stuck my dagger right into her belly and savored the feeling of her blood running between my knuckles. I don't think she died though. Not when I was there anyway, but the shame of having a daughter that couldn't give him grandchildren and the fact that I attempted to kill another member of the tribe in front of him made Dad exile me then and there." Rodana gave a hefty sigh as she went silent.

The Breton swallowed thickly, seeming uncomfortable at the sudden outpouring of emotion; Rodana instantly wondered if this was the end of their partnership. "Should I go?" The Orc's voice was strong and stubborn, but her expression was fragile, like she was shattering on the inside.

Madetiene rolled her eyes. "Do not be so dramatic. I get it; you are a savage and you got kicked out for acting like one. That does not mean you are useless to me. So when are you going to look at that bundle I gave you almost half an hour ago?"

The Orc's green eyes flitted back to the small table, realizing she had completely forgotten about the cloth that the other woman had tossed to her. Typically, people changing the subject irritated her, but she felt that 2 ton weight get lifted off her shoulders. Madetiene didn't seem to care about the threat of war parties or that she had massacred people for the sake of her tribe. She seemed almost unfazed by it at this point, either that or the Breton was really good at hiding her emotions.

Rodana took in a shaky breath, attempting to choke away the tightness in the back of her throat as she took the bundle of cloth and unrolled. It was a simple cloth pair of pants and a sleeveless shirt. Both garments were such a dark gray that they were almost black and they had white intricate designs along seams. The Orc loved it. "These are perfect, Madetiene. Where did you find this?" The Orc was beaming.

Madetiene crossed her arms, giving a smirk. "I liberated them from the Khajiit caravan that was rolling out of town this morning; no big deal."

"You stole these? Aren't you kinda...I don't know..." Rodana trailed off with a smirk, fiddling with the cloth.

The Breton uncrossed her arms, arching a brow at the Orc. Her voice was low and almost dangerous. "What?"

Rodana chuckled almost nervously. "You just don't really seem like the type to want to get your hands dirty, y'know? I guess I can't picture you doing much other than getting lost in the woods." She smirked, purposefully pushing the Breton's buttons. It was getting hard to hold back her laughter.

Madetiene's cheeks flushed in anger, she planted her hands on her hips. "I get my hands dirty constantly, savage! I killed wolves to save your sorry backside and now I stole for you; you should really be more grateful!"

The Orc gave a genuine chuckle. "Calm down, I'm joking with you!" Rodana looked down at the cloth; it was from Madetiene, so it was perfect.

 _ **Author's Note: So for anyone wondering, Rodana got the Rumare Waterfront Casual Wear and Madetiene's veil is the Talon Veil.**_


End file.
